Silver Ice
by Chibi-Shibi
Summary: A story about Narcissa finding her voice again.


**For the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition Quarter Finals, Chaser 3 of The Pride of Portree**

**Main Prompt: Romance **

**Optional Prompts: [character] Narcissa Malfoy, [quote] 'You did a very good job convincing her we were in love.' — Caraval, Stephanie Garber, [colour] Silver**

**TGS Care of Magical Creatures Class: Pygmy Puff - write in the romance genre**

**TGS Nautical Ship Challenge: Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Malfoy - S.S. Icicle**

**TGS Through the Universe Challenge: Celestial Poles — (ship) LuciusNarcissa**

* * *

Every time she closed her eyes, she would see him. _Him,_ with the silver eyes and silver hair. The man she was married to and loved.

She knew very well that her feelings weren't reciprocated. Lucius made that quite clear. It was particularly evident whenever he returned home smelling of perfume that wasn't hers.

Narcissa would quietly look away from his piercing gaze – a gaze that dared her to question him. They would sit across from each other at the table, forcing down another hard-to-swallow meal – this was her life.

Sometimes she wondered if it was her own fault for not being good enough as a wife. Today, was one of those days, and she let herself wallow in her misery. Perhaps she could have done something differently, _better,_ in order to deserve his love. What was it that those women had that she didn't?

His voice broke her train of thought.

"Have you told the elves to prepare for the third?" he asked in a clipped tone, almost as if it pained him to even speak to her. Warmth was something she had come to never expect from him, but even now, it hurt her to remember the fact.

She furrowed her brow in confusion at his words. _The third?_ Then, it struck her. The date would mark five years of this sham that they called a marriage. She supposed they were to have a celebration of some sort, to show everyone else that they were oh-so _happy_.

"I will," she told him, her own voice also sounding strained. She was struggling not to burst out into a flood of tears. Or a deluge of scathing, hurt, words, all aimed at her _loving_ husband.

_The celebration is supposed to mean something. Do we mean anything anymore, Lucius? Have we ever? How much longer are we going to pretend? For whose sake are we pretending? The world's? Why should we care about them? For Draco's sake? Do you think he'll not realise, when he's slightly older? Why are we doing this, Lucius?_

But she didn't say a single word through the rest of their meal. Instead, she distracted herself by mentally planning out the way in which she was going to organise the event – the way that he wanted her to, pushing away the little voice that asked her if he was just as icy to the other witches too.

* * *

He was wearing his silver suit when she emerged from her room. The one that looked remarkably similar to the one he had worn at their wedding. Narcissa closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Somehow, that was always how she pictured him.

_Silver._

Regal, and commanding, but also masked, like the cold glass of a mirror that had something to hide. She supposed he did have something to hide, from the rest of the world, in order to maintain his reputation. She, of course, was not even worth hiding it from.

She took the arm that he offered her, and both their masks, that of a happy couple truly in love. She took little Draco's hand in her own, and together, the three walked out into the room full of people.

They were greeted by cheers and smiles. She forced herself to mirror the expressions of those that were beaming at her. Before long, they would come up to her and Lucius, and murmur some words of fake well-wishing.

"You look so happy together!"

"Draco is such an adorable child, and so lucky to have parents like you!"

"Congratulations on five successful years!"

_Successful._ Narcissa could only wish that were the case. Nonetheless, she smiled and nodded and replied to their so-called compliments as well as she could.

"You did a very good job convincing her we were in love," Lucius remarked aside, when they had a moment of privacy from all their so-called well-wishers. She smiled back as she looked up at him and nodded.

The light from the chandeliers half-lit up his face, catching on the angles of his features. At that moment, she remembered why she had fallen in love with him and had agreed so easily when her father had proposed that she marry him.

Even now, though she knew it was all an act to mask his cold, hard, heart, she could not help but notice his charms. It was, after all, harder to fall out of love than fall in love.

Her ears were still echoing with his words when he left, gliding away to beam at some witch across the room.

She wondered if she was very good at convincing herself, too.

* * *

It was almost dawn when she felt the mattress shift beside her.

She was glad for the dark that meant he would not see the tears in her eyes. After everything that they had said to everyone earlier today, she had hoped that today, of all days, he would have at least stayed beside her.

She turned away from him and sobbed quietly.

The morning light was already creeping in through the window by the time his breathing evened. It was then that she realised that there was something familiar about the scent that was mixed with his. There was also something familiar about the shade of the lipstick stain that graced his shirt collar.

More tears sprung to her eyes.

_Bella?_ _How could he? How could _she_? Her own sister…_

Narcissa sat up abruptly. Then, realising her mistake, quickly looked over to check if he was still asleep.

Slowly, she got off the bed that now felt like it had never really been _theirs._ The coverlet felt cold, almost freezing, under her hand. She hesitated for a moment, but resisted the urge to turn to look at him again.

She would not fall back into his gleaming eyes again. She had a plan to implement.

* * *

The disappearance of Narcissa and Draco Malfoy had shaken the Wizarding World. At least, for a short time, until it found other scandals to worry about, and mother and son were left alone, and mostly forgotten.

However, it was years before Narcissa could look at her son's silver hair, without a twinge of pain.


End file.
